


warning sign

by cedarwoods



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-Finale, Root is Alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 22:57:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10501185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cedarwoods/pseuds/cedarwoods
Summary: The title comes from "I Found" by Amber Run.





	

“When did you know?” 

You don’t mean for the words to slip out of your mouth. But tonight, Root has set aside her coding work, and as you lie on her lap, you just about purr under her undivided attention, her caresses slowly lulling you to sleep. There are no monsters to defeat, and even the ones in your head are being held at bay. Tonight, it’s just you and Root with a stolen moment of intimacy wrapped snugly around you like a quilt. 

Belatedly, you realize how vague your question sounds. You don’t need to elaborate though – you rarely do with Root, who always, always seems to understand. She stops stroking your hair for a long moment, deep in contemplation, and you secretly protest at the loss of her warm, delicate fingers idly tracing patterns against your scalp. The apartment is still and silent except for the hum of the laundry machine and the patter of rain against the window. 

“It wasn’t really…an epiphany,” she admits at last. Gently, her fingers thread through your hair again, and you sigh contentedly, waiting. “It was a series of moments. It was like…it was like I was wading deeper and deeper into the ocean for a while and eventually began to drown.” 

“Why did you wade so far in it?” 

A small smile graces her lips. “Because it was beautiful. Powerful. Lethal. I couldn’t resist it. So I surrendered myself to it.” 

You meet her fond gaze; her face is suffused with the soft, golden glow of the lamplight. She brushes your cheek tenderly, and your mind teleports you to a previous instance in which Root had made such a gesture years ago. 

“I think I knew that night in the Samaritan facility,” Root murmurs as she cups your jaw, “when my dark knight rode to my rescue on her faithful two-wheeled steed.” Her fingers now trail along your neck and still lower, down your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

It wasn’t the first time you saved her, but it was the first time you prioritized her in a way you know that no one else ever has. _For the mission,_ you said. (You never did tell her that she is your mission.) 

She rubs concentric circles near your thumb. “You’ve always used these hands to protect me, Sameen. You’re good code. The best code.” 

You have not been able to convey how much her absolute, unconditional, unwavering love means to you. You always thought that your code was bad, flawed, inelegant, but she sees and accepts all of you. Root worships you as devoutly as the Machine, and that is the highest honour she can bestow upon you. 

She kisses the back of your hand, which tingles at her touch. Try though you might, you cannot conceal the effect that she has on you. 

“What about you, Sweetie?” Root asks. “When did you know?” 

It’s your turn to stare into space, lost in thought. Green spots dance in your vision from the living room light, and your eyelids flutter shut, plunging you temporarily into darkness. The green flashes transform into a kaleidoscope of memories, all featuring a knowing lipstick-painted smirk, mischievous hazel eyes, wavy brown hair and legs as long as forever. 

Falling in love, you realize, was a series of moments for you too. Root got under your skin, seeped into your every pore, embedded herself in your every thought, until you began care about her with every fiber of your being. You started to crave her presence. You went from missing her like an intestinal parasite to missing her like a heartbeat. 

And that’s when it occurs to you: 

“In the elevator at the Stock Exchange,” you breathe, and she peers at you as though she was expecting this. “That’s when I knew.” 

Since then, you have fallen in love with her thousands and thousands of times – and lost her every time but once. 

As if reading your thoughts, Root reassures you, “We found each other, Sam. That’s what matters.” 

“What if we hadn’t?” 

She’s already told you, but you need to hear it again. 

“Then maybe someday, in another world,” she says softly, “we would meet again. She would see to it.” 

You still the rhythmic caresses of Root’s hand against your cheek and sit up. 

If falling in love is drowning for her, you think it might be melting for you. You want this woman to ensconce you in her warmth, burn you in her passion. 

You hold her face close for a moment, once more admiring the play of light and shadow against her fine features. Her eyes shine with intention, and now it’s your hands that are tangled in her hair as you surge forward, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. 

It’s easy to overpower her; she’s still fragile from her wounds. You place a pillow under her just before her head hits it as you lay her down on the couch, settling comfortably on top of her and tearing her plaid shirt open. She deepens the kiss and sighs into your mouth, entwining her legs with yours. 

You pull away from her briefly, overwhelmed, and you both gasp for air. 

“Told you a four-alarm fire would be cozy,” she croons. 

You huff and smother her again, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips as you kiss her and kiss her and kiss her. 

_I’m yours,_ your kisses promise. _I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours._

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from "I Found" by Amber Run.


End file.
